


Zambeautiful

by mouthcave



Category: Hockey - Fandom, carolina hurricanes - Fandom
Genre: Hockey, Inanimate Objects, Other, realistic fiction, sensual peanut butter and jelly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 03:00:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5851525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mouthcave/pseuds/mouthcave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeff Skinner had an icy heart, but the trusty Hurricanes Zamboni smoothed out all of its sharp edges</p>
            </blockquote>





	Zambeautiful

The 5"ll hockey player knew that what he was feeling was wrong, but he couldn't help to long after the beautiful zamboni. The way it glided across the ice, renewing the fresh smoothness that was heaven to skate on, made him want to write poems describing its intense beauty. Although the machine had no way of expressing its emotions to him, he knew it felt the same way.

  
First of all, he always noticed that wherever he skated was always a little smoother than where his teammates did. He couldn't really compare, of course, because he wasn't them, but he could feel it in his heart. The zamboni went out of its u to make his path smoother.

  
Second of all, it started to hurt less when he was shoved into the ice. Of course, by the trick of some cruel god, this started to happen a lot less frequently, but he still knew. It wasn't because he'd built up an immunity, it was the love of the zamboni shining through. The zamboni protected him the way that Lily and James Potter protected Harry Potter from Voldemort, except romantically.

  
Other than those two examples, there wasn't very much physical proof but for the fact that Skinner knew with all his heart that the zamboni cared for him like a lover. He didn't understand how the machine was capable of love, but he was basically just a machine too, right? And he was capable of love, he justified, so why wouldn't the zamboni be?  
Most importantly, though, was that Skinner and the zamboni didn't have anyone interfering with their lives, yet.

 

* * *

 

 

Although Skinner was proud of his love, he was afraid to share it with others. He had seen what happened to others who pronounced their love with inanimate objects. They were laughed off, cast down, and stepped on. No, he wouldn't allow that. His relationship had to be secret, but he longed for a day when they could be proud about their love.  
A forbidden love didn't mean it wasn't romantic. After practices, Jeff approached the zamboni sneakily.

  
"Hey," he whispered against its smooth surface. The zamboni didn't respond, just as it never did. "Oh, you!" he laughed hushedly. "Guess what I brought?" Skinner's eyes shone with excitement. "It's a picnic! Just for us," he added, winking. The zamboni sat there, displaying no emotion, but Skinner could tell that it would be blushing, if zambonis had blood.

  
Unfortunately, he didn't know how to drive it yet, so their picnic was to be held where the zamboni was stored. Not that they minded, of course. What mattered was who they were with.

  
Skinner pulled two sloppily made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches out of his bag. They were cut as if a kindergartner had tried to make them into hearts. "I made these myself!" Skinner grinned proudly. The zamboni sat, displaying no emotion.  
Skinner scarfed down his sandwich, wanting to focus on the zamboni. He peeled open the pb&j slowly, and stuck the peanut butter side to the side of the zamboni. He held onto it, slowly rubbing it around to spread the peanut butter across the zamboni's surface. He smiled as the zamboni sat emotionlessly. "I'm glad you like this." He whispered.  
He proceeded to rub the jelly side around, above where the peanut butter had been spread. "Don't want to leave you hanging, you know there's two flavors in this sandwich." he chuckled darkly. The zamboni sat emotionlessly.

  
Skinner glanced at his watch, "Oh goodness!" he exclaimed, with the voice of an adult male hockey player. "I need to get going!" The zamboni didn't reply. "I'll see you tomorrow <3" he promised, and if the zamboni could speak, it would ask how he pronounced <3  
Skinner collected his things, and hugged the zamboni, smudging peanut butter and jelly all over himself. He laughed, and the room continued to be dark. Then, as he turned to leave, his eyes met judgmental eyes who had been watching the entire. picnic.

 

* * *

 

 

Skinner turned bright red, moving to block the zamboni which sat there, displaying no outwards emotion.  
“Erm, hi?” he muttered, absently wiping some peanut butter off of his hands and onto his pants. The intruder flicked a switch to turn on a single light in the storage room, and stepped slowly into it so that Skinner could see him.

  
As the light fell onto his stereotypical white man haircut, Skinner recognized the trespasser. “Coach Bill Peters?”  
“Jeff,” the coach said sternly, a single tear running down his face. “What is the meaning of this?”  
“Sir,” Jeff glanced back at his lover. Its wheels pierced his soul , and he mentally apologized before continuing, “It’s not what you think.” Skinner could sense that the zamboni was stiff behind him.

  
“It’s exactly what I think, Skinner” the coach spat, “I’ve been believing in you your entire career. I was there when you kicked Scott Nichol and were suspended for two full games. I was there when you got a concussion from Niskanen. I’ve been here through all our struggles, so why are you throwing away your career for the zamboni?” Bill Peters screamed, tears streaming down his face.

  
“Who said anything about throwing away my career?” Skinner asked, reaching towards the zamboni’s side to steady himself.  
“I know how these things go, Jeff. One moment you’re cuddling a zamboni in the storage room, the next you’re trying to run away to alaska and the zamboni changes its mind. You’ve already quit your job and destroyed your identity, and you’ve got to start over. You break up, and begin rebuilding yourself, as a hockey coach. No one knows anything about you before 1996, and you try your best to keep the people around you from making the same mistakes, but it seems it’s too late..”

  
“Coach?! What are you saying?” Skinner exclaimed, realization dawning over him as the zamboni sat cooly beside him.  
“I was in love with a beautiful zamboni once. It ruined my life. Look at me, I’m 50 years old and pitifully alone.”  
“But coach, don’t you have a wife and two kids-”

  
“PITIFULLY ALONE.”  
“I’m so sorry, sir. But, not all zambonis are like that you know.” Jeff argued.  
“They are, Jeff. Does your zamboni ever tell you it loves you? Does it ever hug you back?” Bill Peters taunted.  
“Those things aren’t important, coach. I know it loves me, and thats enough. It may not be very affectionate towards me, but I am affectionate enough for the both of us.” Skinner proudly gripped the edge of the zamboni.

  
“You’re saying.. that theres more ways to feel love than hugging and words?” Bill Peters asked, eyes wide.  
“Yes, Coach. When you really love something, you can feel the connection without any of that.” Skinner touched the coach’s shoulder gently. Bill Peters smiled calmly, looking up into nothing.  
“So you think that maybe.. my zamboni could have still loved me?”  
“Of course sir!” Skinner smiled, “It could have just been afraid of Alaska.”

  
“That makes so much sense.. I realize now that I love my wife and kids, but I don’t hate my ex zamboni any more! Thank you, son.”  
“Any time coach. I just have one request. Could you maybe keep this quiet, I’m not ready to tell people about my relationship yet, you’re the only one who knows.” Skinner awkwardly twiddled with the edge of his hockey shirt.  
“Of course, son. As long as you don’t run away to Alaska, I’ll keep this between us.” the coach winked.  
“Thank you sir,” Skinner said, and Bill Peters slowly walked backwards out of the light, grinning sincerely.


End file.
